


Sanctuary

by Sincosma



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Male Sheik, Slash, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2018-12-03 16:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11536428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincosma/pseuds/Sincosma
Summary: Kindness is paid forward, not back. Sanctuary is not a place; it is kind company. Perhaps...I'm here to help you find your sanctuary. AU link/male!Sheik, slash, slow burn.





	1. Dreams

Sanctuary  
_Sincosma_  
  
\--  
   
A/N: While based loosely on Ocarina of Time, this is mostly AU. This is a slash pairing and Sheik is a male.  
   
Rating: M for blood, gore, and mention of torture.  
   
Disclaimer: I am not making any profit from this works. Rights go to Nintendo.  
   
\--  
   
|1. Dreams|  
   
It was on one unremarkable day that it happened.  
   
Deep in winter’s icy breath, Link woke to the familiar sensation of cold and warm at once. His hands, feet, and face were frozen while the rest of his body was warm. It was a confusing sensation he had grown too accustomed to, the dim morning light a weak filter through ice-crusted windows. The fire in the stove pot had long burned out and he sat up with a quiet groan, facing the miserable cold to chase away his lethargy.  
   
His morning rolled begrudgingly into motion as the fire was rekindled and his breakfast of beans and hard jerky was eaten in a silence only punctuated by the occasional song bird or distant bark of wild dogs. The small cabin creaked ever so slightly as a brisk wintry wind pressed the southern wall and the crack of ice abandoning its post on the stoop broke him from his unintentional stare at a leaning white tree out the window.  
   
The day would be quiet and it would be his, as all days were those past six years.  
   
Or he had thought it would be his until, in the prelude of a growing storm over the mountain peaks, Link heard the unmistakable crunch of a two-legged visitor. And maybe _visitor_ was too kind a title—he had seen many a horror in his day to be so naïve to think this person meant well. Old habits were hard to leave behind and he held a dagger close as he shoved the door open through the piled snow outside.  
   
Standing several strides away, a man swathed in thick white furs, hood, and cowl regarded him with mismatched eyes. A red iris watched while a cloudy white one did not, the former a shock of blood against the forever-white backdrop. He carried no weapon save a white staff, perfect and straight with a raw and red stone fixed to its top. The stranger leaned heavily on it and Link realized quickly that the man posed little threat, clearly exhausted and starved.  
   
“Good morning,” he called to the newcomer, voice rough from much disuse.  
   
“And to you,” the man returned, bowing his head in respect. “I do not mean to disturb you, but a storm comes and wondered if I might seek shelter until it passes. I can pay, of course.”  
   
Link felt himself start at the familiar language of the Goddesses; many people spoke it in this land but the cadence here was a far reach from that of Hyrule. This man’s voice was accented in a familiar yet foreign way, reminding Link painfully of the deserts from his birthplace; it wasn’t exactly a pleasant memory but those times were long behind him.  
   
He glanced to one of the mountains standing guard against the west, the overcast sky a rolling, matte black and wicked winds fraying the powder of its summit. Yes, a storm would reach them soon and Link knew too well what traveling through one was like. A few moments passed as he deliberated this and the stranger stood patient despite the growing wind.  
   
“I need no money, though I thank you. Come in and take shelter, traveler,” Link said, attempting to smile in welcome.  
   
The man bowed his head once more. “I appreciate it.”  
   
Once the door was closed to the gathering blizzard and the warmth ambled back into their limbs, Link tried his best to play host. It was a muscle long lost to atrophy but he poured two cups of tea and beckoned them to sit at the small table by his cot, looking out through the window slowly congesting with white powder.  
   
“My name is Link,” he offered as they sat. “Forgive me if my manners are lacking—it’s been nearly many winters since I shared my company with someone longer than a few minutes.”  
   
The newcomer pushed back his thick fur hood to reveal a mess of long, dark blonde hair, but the cowl stayed intact. “I am Sheik,” came the reply. “And I’ve spent nearly the same time away from people as well. Company is company so worry not, Link.”  
   
The name and Sheik’s appearance rang a sharp bell in Link’s mind and he frowned at the dark memories it summoned once more.  
   
“You’re sheikah.”  
   
A red eye and blind one widened as gloved hands pushed down the cowl. A sharp, bronze-skinned face stood out from the white light, two especially thick, white cicatrices could be seen at his pronounced cheek bone, dragging downward in parallel lines to his neck and out of sight. Perhaps that were inflicted at the same time as those that damaged his eye. Link shuddered to think what had caused such a collection of scars  
   
Much like himself, a beard framed Sheik’s jaw, a nomadic trait earned from years without care, the blonde such a strange contrast with darker skin. Despite all the damage, it was a strong and handsome face, much like the people Link remembered from his homeland.  
   
“I thought you might be hylian,” Sheik said, voice full of surprise as his mouth bent into a slight smile. “I did not expect to find a neighbor so far from Hyrule.”  
   
_Neighbor_. What a kind term. Link tensed ever so slightly as he tried to determine whether the comment was sincere or condescending. He prayed that this meeting would not end in violence; perhaps Sheik had been away for so long he did not know what happened to his people.  
   
The face before him was genuine, however, so Link forced himself to relax.  
   
“I left during the war.” Link wasn’t quite sure what made him say it, but he felt the words leave his lips unbidden. It was a subject that would be forever tender, and he wondered if it would alight anything in his company.  
   
The fire had chased away the frigid air he’d woken up to and Link began to feel his nose once more in the steam of the tea. Link sipped from the ceramic mug and left the words to hang in lukewarm air as the expected darkness passed over his company’s face. He looked away feeling strangely like staring would be inconsiderate.  
   
“I left before it.”  
   
Link brought his gaze back to the sheikah, continuing to find new things every time he looked. Now he saw the scar warping the man’s left eyebrow, just above the blinded eye. Throughout his mane of thick hair, little braids long-made snuck in and out of view like serpents, so tangled they were practically dreaded. In his campaign through the war Link could recall the skills of the sheikah—they were the only race in Hyrule to train only as mages and, judging by the handsome staff against the wall, Sheik was no exception. Link had always been deeply impressed by their prowess over magic in combat, both as allies and as...  
   
He violently pushed his mind away from the thoughts.  
   
“But I see you were not spared violence even so,” Link remarked. After the words left his mouth he could’ve smacked himself. Being away from people had really ruined his discretion and he could only hope he had not insulted his guest.  
   
“I have been to places that make the wars of Hyrule appear tame.” Sheik let out a cynical chuckle. “Sheikah are no strangers to violence, Link.”  
   
The words were too real, making Link want to get up from the table. But he stayed still. Glad for his luck, he made a mental note to think a little harder before he spoke next. The tea was finished and Sheik gratefully accepted a second cup as well as food. It was admitted by his guest that his rations had run out two days prior and Link gladly offered everything he had—with more meat stored in the snow it was no trouble to share.  
   
Guilt also played a massive factor as he eagerly offered up his own food.  
   
“You were a soldier,” Sheik commented after a while, nodding to the unmistakable Crown-issued sword leaned against the wall by the door. The Crest was etched deeply into the scabbard, the gold plating long-eroded from the constant cleaning of blood and gore. It was a cold, hard memory that he kept close whenever stray thoughts of returning home wandered into his mind.  
   
A deep dread sank into Link’s stomach as he waited for Sheik to bring up the genocide. How could he not? But Link would oblige the questions, hoping he wouldn’t have a need to grab the weapon from the wall.  
   
“The youngest captain in the Royal Army,” Link said with a nod. “I deserted shortly before the conclusion of the civil war, at eighteen. I refused to follow orders.”  
   
“You left with no honor.” There was no judgment in his voice—instead there was a solemn understanding.  
   
Did Sheik really not know?  
   
“There is no honor in war for greed.” Link tapped his fingers restlessly against the rough ceramic, eyes wandering to worn wood grains. “I would not kill innocents. I felt I had more than served my time to the Crown.”  
   
A quiet fell over the cabin as, suddenly, Link became aware of the blizzard swirling around outside. The lack of conversation was not tense but somehow companionable and he found himself surprised with how easily words had left him, even as he mentioned some of the most condemning events of his past. As a traveler of solitude, speaking his mind had never been his strong suit yet here, with a perfect stranger that should hate him by all rights, Link’s past was laid out as easily as what he ate for dinner the previous night. Clearly Sheik was ignorant to the specifics of the war and Link would spare the sadness, anger, and betrayal sharing the news would bring.  
   
_Let the dead lie_ , he thought to himself in resignation.  
   
Over time, they wandered back to discussion, the storm still moaning away beyond the whited-out windows.  
   
“Were you of the Kakariko tribe?”  
   
“Yes, although I was born in the desert,” Sheik confirmed with a short nod. “A sickness took most years before the war, robbing us of a third of our people. The ones who survived—my family and I included—left to serve the Crown or moved on to the eastern mountain ranges, leaving Hyrule forever.”  
   
The sheikah of the Crown; Link had known many of them by name, their faces burned into his nightmares.  
   
There was a startling sadness to Sheik’s words, the lonely meaning of the story filling the void that his toneless voice left. Loss was a hammer stroke that shattered both of their lives and Link knew its swing all too well.  
   
“I’m sorry for your loss, Sheik.” And he meant it more now than any other time those words had left his mouth.  
   
“Loss is strength. Without loss we learn nothing of the value of life.” The sheikah’s words in tandem with the lonely howl of the blizzard were the most poignant things Link had heard in years, cracking open doors deep below his skin that had long since been shut in his chosen exile.  
   
“The war’s end, as I hear it, was six winters past. Have you been traveling that long?” Sheik inquired during their third cup of tea.  
   
Link nodded, drawing his eyes away from the blank window once more. “I visited the surrounding kingdoms for many of those years. And when the other end of the continent was not enough, I crossed the sea and found these lands. To my surprise, tundra suits me rather well. And you?”  
   
“I came here much sooner. I lived for a year or so in a city at the coast but after all my years growing up under the sun, I too found the tundra more comfortable. This is my first journey deep this particular valley, so you may imagine my surprise to see a hylian here with the same idea.” But Sheik didn’t look at all dismayed at this and even smiled a bit more. “After many years alone, this is the first company to be so easy.”  
   
Link understood the words more than he could articulate. It was always difficult for those who had seen too much to connect with those who hadn’t. War, grief, and darkness made unmovable marks, changing its victims on the deepest of levels. It was so rare to find another that understood it and Link couldn’t remember the last time he had.  
   
If only he could shake off the guilt.  
   
“It is,” Link agreed, wondering if the Goddesses had brought this man to punish him for his crimes.  
   
The day pushed on, the blizzard ever-constant and conversation peppered throughout the hours. Sheik had taken to reading from a leather-bound book he carried, and Link carved nothing of interest out of a chunk of wood. Scraps still lingered here and there throughout the cabin since its construction the previous summer and it had been his unconscious mission to make something out of all of them. Wasting the wood felt wrong even if all he managed was a misshapen thing possibly resembling a bear.  
   
And when night began to fall and candles were lit, Sheik gave him a questioning look.  
   
“You’re welcome to stay and take my cot,” Link offered.  
   
“No, I am more accustomed to a bedroll—keep your cot.”  
   
He seemed insistent enough so Link nodded, settled into his bed. The storm showed no signs of stopping, even in suffocating darkness, but Link was sure that even if it _had_ stopped, Sheik would be staying regardless.  
   
He wondered if it was out of kindness or guilt.  
   
Nothing else was said that night as, on opposite sides of the cabin, they fell into slumbers despite the cacophony beyond the walls and the still very new trust between them. And for the first time in nearly a year Link had a new dream:  
   
_He stood on the battlefield, his comrades among him, just as unsure as he. Before them lay the sheikah encampment. It was a small cluster of tents to house the sheikah loyal to the Crown. Their allies._  
   
_Their friends._  
   
_In Link’s fist, crumpled in tense rage, was the order to exterminate them. To betray them. Why had the order been given? In a time of such darkness, why would their lord endeavor to turn them all against each other? With such a long history of genocide, why had the King chosen to subject such a valuable people to it again?_  
   
_He felt fury. He felt his own sort of betrayal._  
   
_But orders were orders and Link had taken his oath, so his garrison had insisted. They pushed him forward, implying that he was too young to understand how to follow a direct order, quoting their lord’s claims. The King had told them the sheikah were traitors, that they had leaked the vital secrets responsible for the most recent decimation of a hidden refugee camp. That the sheikah had sold Crown secrets to the enemy for a handsome price. Even that the sheikah had stolen from the Princess Zelda herself._  
   
_Could it possibly be true?_  
   
_Time flashed quickly before him and he killed the first sheikah warrior to fight back—it was clearly their chief. He was tall and lean, skin the color of burnt gold and hair soaked with his own blood as Link held him. The rest of his men ignored Link’s orders to cease the attack; they slaughtered without mercy._  
   
_“I’m sorry,” Link pleaded to the fallen sheikah, closing the man’s scarlet eyes and feeling a horrible nausea creep up his throat. “I’m so sorry.”_  
   
_The sounds of the massacre permeated around him, an all-too-familiar symphony of the past three years in his career. The cycle of hatred, the endless and pointless fighting like animals…would it see no end? How far would it go? To what lengths would the races reach to possess that infernal Triforce? What glory could it possibly bring to a kingdom now soaked in blood?_  
   
_Link could not end the war, but he could end his part in it._  
   
_The walls of the gorge closed them all in, the stone seeming to grow taller as the sun left them to fading darkness. Only the fires of burning tents illuminated the bodies. His men left him for the river on the other side of the gorge. Despite their coaxing, their captain would not rise, unwilling to release his hold the body of a fallen sheikah. They shook their heads, called him a traitor, and said they’d be back for him after they washed up in the river._  
   
_Link sat with the sheikah, silent as the fires slowly began to die. He cared not if they came back for him. Link reached up and tore the marks of a captain off his cloak, tore the Royal Crest from his sleeve._  
   
_So many had he killed in the name of the King, convinced it was for an honest, glorious cause. Countless lives had he passed judgment on, fueled by the infectious passion their lord had set alight in the youthful blood of his battalions._  
   
_Never once had Link thought for himself or that the King’s words were a cover for his greedy conquest—they were all lies. He had not seen the truth until he stared down at the pale, lifeless face of the sheikah chief he had once called his comrade._  
   
_“_ Link _.”_  
   
_His eyes shot up, arms still supporting the dead sheikah chief as a figure moved slowly through the bodies, careful to tread on none of the fallen. He was wrapped in white furs, the bottom stained crimson as it trailed behind him._  
   
_It was Sheik, so vivid and stark against the orange light of the battlefield._  
   
_His gaze was magnetic, everything else falling away as the sheikah stopped before him to offer his staff. It was smooth and flawless in the half light, cold and firm in his grip as Link stood and accepted it. His eyes wandered its length, coming to rest at the red stone mounted at its top. It pulsed before him, whispering in Sheikah, a language he had never had a chance to learn. Link looked once again to Sheik, unable to find his voice as that luminous red eye held him as though shackled._  
   
_“Don’t let him leave.”_  
   
Link opened his eyes, thin morning light muffled through snow-covered windows, his breath a puff of moisture in the frozen cabin. The dream disturbed him and he forced himself up to survey the cabin. The sheikah was still asleep, broad furred back facing him as it rose and fell in measured breaths. Link knew he should feel strange about the living person still there…but he couldn’t. Now that Sheik was there it felt even stranger for him to leave.  
   
_Don’t let him leave._  
   
They woke for the day and Link prepared breakfast for them both, the storm long passed. Sheik spoke of moving on, giving Link his solitude back and no longer imposing, but Link cut him off.  
   
“Actually,” he said, “how about you stay?”  
   
\--  
   
This fic was heavily influenced by the song White Foxes by Susanne Sundfør—a lot of the themes and imagery come from it. Take a listen if you have a chance—it’s a super cool song.  
   
For those of you that are new to my work, I’m the writer of Congruent. It’s a _much_ bigger work (~200k) of this pairing and is now complete. If you’re into shink (specifically male sheik), definitely check out Congruent. Click on my name and you can find it on my profile or read it on fanfiction.net (my name is Sincosma over there as well).  
   
Other places to find me:  
Sincosma on Tumblr  
amandalynnsings on Instagram  
ohamandalynn on snapchat  
amandalynnsings.com for my music  
   
Thank you for reading!  
 


	2. Warning

|2. Warning|  
   
“The herd is half a league southwest, towards the other peak.”  
   
Sheik crouched down in the snow next to the tree Link had been waiting behind, sweat plastering golden hair to his dark forehead and adrenaline shining in his garnet eye. Link was glad to see such an animated look on his friend’s face—they had been cooped up inside for nearly a week due to the most recent unforgiving storm. It had worn on them both…but perhaps on Sheik a bit more. There had been a restlessness about him in the past few nights and when that morning brought clear skies, they nearly tripped over themselves to force their way out of the cabin, the deep snow against the door hardly an obstacle in their vigor. Though they had plenty of food still, they went out in the woods hunting for game more for their minds than their stomachs.  
   
“Good,” Link said quietly, checking over his bow and moving to his feet. But Sheik reached out and stilled him with a firm grip over his leather gauntlet. “What is it?”  
   
Link mistook the animation in the sheikah’s eyes for excitement; it was actually worry.  
   
“I found something else,” Sheik replied, voice uneasy and eyes flitting back to survey the area around them. “Link, how many people do you know of that live in these mountains?”  
   
A creeping chill began to roll over Link’s shoulders, mind shooting in five different directions of apprehension. But he answered obediently. “Only a few. They all keep to themselves, however. I don’t even know their names.”  
   
“Come with me.”  
   
Link followed closely to his companion, weaving through trees and stepping methodically through the deep snow. A few minutes passed in muted light, Link almost a bundle of nerves at Sheik’s unspoken revelation. He imagined Sheik was not the type to spook; whatever the man had found must have been bad.  
   
The smell of smoke greeted his nose as they descended into a small dip in the terrain. Before he could wonder at its origins, he saw the source in front of them.  
   
Three men lay dead among the snow, two of them solitary men of the mountain and the other—  
   
“This is a soldier of Hyrule,” Link whispered, stunned and stressed. “I would recognize that uniform anywhere.”  
   
“As would I.” He glanced over at Sheik and saw mirrored tension there.  
   
Link surveyed the area, taking note of the long-since extinguished campfire the two men had likely sat around and the items now strewn across the snow. Clearly someone had been searching for something among the mountain men’s belongings. Signs of the skirmish were obvious in displaced snow and broken twigs around the bodies. But it must have happened in the night, any signs of blood now beneath a thick layer of snow.  
   
But that wasn’t the curious thing.  
   
The hylian soldier lay straight, hands crossed over his chest on the hilt of his sword—it was the position of a soldier put to rest. Someone had survived the fight to ensure his comrade did not die without honor. There were no longer any tracks, the number of soldiers hidden from their knowledge by the weather.  
   
Nonetheless, it was enough to disturb Link deeply.  
   
“We’re leaving. Now.” His words were short and quiet to the sheikah, who gave a quick nod in return and followed Link’s lead.  
   
The travel back to their cabin was not a long one but Link worried for the tracks they would leave. Sheik was a step ahead of him, casting a spell to erase their footprints after the moment they were made. Grateful to have a skilled mage with him, Link quickly led the way back to safety.  
   
Every shadow seemed a bit sinister now and Link couldn’t determine why. It wasn’t as though the scene far behind them now had anything to do with either of them. It wasn’t out of the question that any adventurous hylian was perfectly capable of crossing the ocean. Perhaps the King had sent soldiers to explore a new land, looking for new kingdoms to trade with. They might have decided to travel north to the great city in the tundra and caused an altercation with the strange and reclusive nomads that frequented the mountains. Hyrule soldiers were never known for their tact or placid nature, so there was a chance…  
   
There were so many reasons for what he had seen, least of all that these soldiers were any sort of threat to them. But even as they reached their home, nervous eyes swept the landscape around them and stress coiled in their shoulders as the door was closed and bolted shut.  
   
Neither of them spoke for a time, no efforts made to rekindle their fire and make tea—there was an unspoken consensus that creating smoke was unwise. Sitting in their seats at the crooked table, staring sightlessly out the window, it seemed Sheik would be the first one to break their silence.  
   
“They were looking for something,” Sheik remarked, eyes dark and brows furrowed. “That much is clear.”  
   
“I agree,” Link said, “but it’s hardly our business.”  
   
“That site is two leagues from this cabin. I believe that would qualify as our business.”  
   
“Who knows why they’re out here,” Link deflected. “It’s foolish to think that, just as easily as you and I travelled here, men from Hyrule couldn’t as well. The reasons for their presence here are endless.”  
   
“Since you arrived here, have you encountered a single person from Hyrule? Am I not the first you’ve met?” the sheikah asked, a desperate quality to his voice that sent a tremor of worry through Link’s chest.  
   
“…You are correct.”  
   
“Then don’t you think it’s too coincidental that, in the middle of a dense mountain range, during more savage winters than Hyrule has even known, hundreds of leagues from the capital to the south, that an unknown number of hylian soldiers just stumbled here?” Sheik gave him an expectant look.  
   
Link growled in frustration, rubbing at the cold sweat on his forehead. Sheik was right, of course. He had kept himself safely in denial on the way home but now, in the face of those hard, contrasting eyes and the cowl lowered to reveal a scowl, Link could escape it no more.  
   
“Okay. Yes, you’re right, Sheik. But if they were here for us, for whatever reason, how could they _possibly_ know to come here?” Link insisted, tone as reasoning as he could manage.  
   
A look of dread passed over Sheik’s face like a shadow, the expression making Link’s stomach tie itself into quick knots.  
   
“Not us,” Sheik corrected in a far quieter voice. “Me. They’re here for me.”  
   
Link could feel himself shaking his head before he could even find his voice to negate the statement.  
   
“No, Sheik, you weren’t involved in the war. I was a soldier. It would be me—”  
   
“Link, I lived in the city for a time, before my travels here,” the sheikah said, speaking over Link’s argument and shaking his head as well. “I have no answers for what they could want from me, but there’s no reason they would know you’re up here. It’s me, Link. I brought them here.”  
   
It had been a month since Sheik’s sudden arrival, but Link still remembered every single one of their conversations in perfect detail. He’d been curious about the city, asking for stories of the coast he’d never seen. Sheik had spent months in that city, living at an inn and working at its bar. People would know him, know his name, and be able to describe him to anyone that came asking. Unfortunately, Sheik was probably right. Whatever had brought the soldiers to the mountains, Sheik was the most likely candidate.  
   
But then, why would they attack and search a camp of mountain men?  
   
Too quickly, the sheikah was on his feet, moving to gather his things. “I’m so sorry, Link. I’ve brought this upon you. I must leave now before they find this place.”  
   
Link was on his feet too, faster than he thought he could move in such cold weather, pulling at Sheik’s arm to stop him. “No, be quiet. I will not allow you to leave if you think you’ve burdened me in some way. You brought nothing upon me. You know I only stay here for the winters. We’ll just leave early this year.”  
   
“I cannot ask you to risk your life—”  
   
“You’re not asking anything of me,” Link argued, voice growing hard. “Neither of us have any idea what these soldiers are actually looking for. Sure, perhaps they followed you here based on what the people in the city told them, but what about the camp we just saw? Those dead men and their searched belongings leads me to believe they don’t know _who_ they’re looking for. It seems like they’re looking for an _object_ instead. If it’s a Hyrulean object, of course they would follow the lead of a sheikah mage heading for the mountains. But what makes you think leaving will somehow spare me when they find a defector of the Royal Army living in a cabin, still carrying his crown-issued sword?”  
   
Logic was clearly winning as Sheik paused his efforts. It also spared Link from trying to articulate the more emotional reasons why he didn’t want Sheik to part ways with him. Even Link didn’t understand what he felt, but the visions of his dream that first night had never left him, as though it was a vague shape that had imprinted on his vision after too long a glance at a campfire. The companionship they had fostered in just a month was enough to solidify his resolve.  
   
“We pack and leave before nightfall. It will be cold and arduous, but we’re not safe here any longer.” Link finally released Sheik’s arm, having not noticed he still held it. “Neither of us.”  
   
\--  
   
It was midday when they left.  
   
They packed the frozen food from the snow and filled their packs to the brim with all they could. If not for the threat, it would’ve been another three weeks before Link would normally leave. Luckily, Sheik had subscribed to Link’s nomadic lifestyle happily—bunk down for the winter but spend the other seasons travelling the wilds and that was what they would do, just a little earlier than planned.  
   
As Link secured the door to his cabin until next winter, Sheik waited behind him and said, “I still don’t understand.”  
   
Link glanced back curiously.  
   
“I was shocked enough when you invited me to stay, a perfect stranger despite our shared homeland,” Sheik told him slowly. “Though I didn’t know if it was out of kindness, loneliness, or both, I was content to stay in such good company. But now…” his eyebrows knitted even closer together, warping the scar through his eyebrow, “when it’s clear I am a liability, you insist we still travel together. Forgive me for my rudeness—I don’t mean to question your motives. But I must know why.”  
   
Link knew the inquiry would eventually come up. Abridged versions of the question had been prompted here and there throughout the past month but Link had answered them vaguely. _It was mutually beneficial in such a harsh winter. It was good to have the company. Where else would Sheik go? The winter could easily kill him._ They were all valid reasons. But, of course, Sheik would sense something deeper beneath it and Link wasn’t so sure he was ready to concede the dream and its message.  
   
“I…don’t know, Sheik,” he finally replied. “But, would it not suffice to say that I consider you my friend?”  
   
There was surprise in the sheikah’s face. Surprise and a warm expression he had never seen before.  
   
“That would suffice.”  
   
With that, they left the cabin behind them and began their trek to a pass that could potentially be impassable. But their options were limited—in the heart of the mountains, the western path was their best chance out of the enclosing cage of the peaks. Sheik trusted Link’s knowledge of the range and agreed to the plan. Besides, the east led them to the sea and the south led them to the cities the soldiers had likely come from. The northern pass was too high in altitude, the mountains too tight together making the path narrow and winding. If a sudden storm hit, they’d be in danger of an avalanche trapping them there to die.  
   
Their journey through the sheer climbs and steep drops was trying, the frigid wind wearing at their strength as the meager light of day sped by. Link looked over his back so often he developed a slight crick in the muscles from the motion. Sheik seemed no better; every stop for rest was a tense quiet and ever-wandering eyes.  
   
When they found a small cave before darkness fell, it was the sweetest of blessings after such a stressful day. They chased out an angry wolf and took refuge from the unforgiving wind. A storm hit soon after their arrival making them all the more grateful for its shelter. With the whistling blizzard to obscure the smoke, they allowed themselves a fire to cook their meat without fear of discovery. Paranoia had lingered over them like a heavy aura all day and the reprieve from it finally cleared their minds.  
   
“The chances of us being followed are slim,” Link said after a while. “Especially with that little spell of yours covering our footprints.”  
   
“That little spell of mine is more complex than you think,” Sheik sighed. “It’s using a lot of my mana…but it’s worth it. I agree—it’s doubtful we’re being followed.”  
   
Link gave him a worried look. “Don’t overdo it, Sheik.”  
   
But the sheikah waved him off, pulling his bit of cooked meat from the hastily made skewer and eating it impatiently. Link couldn’t blame him either—they were both famished and willing to burn their mouths for their empty stomachs.  
   
“So,” Link began after a while, “have any ideas what they’re after yet?”  
   
Sheik shook his head, pushing back his wind-blown hair. “Nothing dire enough to bring hylian soldiers across the sea to Iryo and into the White Keaton Mountains.”  
   
“Iryo? White Keaton Mountains?” Link repeated. “Is that what these lands are called?”  
   
Sheik gave him a puzzled look. “You’ve been here for years, but you never bothered to learn its name?”  
   
Before he could stop it, a laugh bubbled up in Link’s chest. No, he hadn’t once stopped to ask anyone the name of the land or its rivers or its mountains. It was a nameless landscape that he had made his own and learning their names now after so long was almost hysterical to him. And before he knew it Sheik was joining him, their guffaws echoing back and forth in the misshapen cavern.  
   
“Yes, o’ observant one. This kingdom is called Iryo, its capital city Gold Harbor on the coast to the south.” Sheik shook his head, red eye bright from laughter. “They are barely aware of Hyrule or any other countries across the sea, I’ve learned. They keep to themselves, an attractive quality to me when I first arrived.”  
   
“Is it beautiful?”  
   
“Stunning.”  
   
Silence returned save for the squall outside the cave and the light crackle of flames before them. Although it was getting late, neither moved to sleep or discuss watches. Link’s mind was sluggish in his exhaustion. The sudden departure from the cabin hadn’t bothered him like it probably would have most people—being a nomad for so long had trained him to understand that everything was temporary. The unknown _did_ bother him, however. And, more than anything, he couldn’t seem to keep a sense of guilt out of his thoughts.  
   
What if they were after Link? What if they had used some sort of tracking spell to find him? The Princess Zelda had been known for her premonitions—what if she had seen where he was? Were they there to take him back to Hyrule and try him for his crimes against the crown? He was an officer that had deserted in the middle of the war. But was it really so serious they would cross the sea to find him? As Sheik had said earlier during their travels, it was all conjecture. And hopefully they would never know the answer—their plan was to put as much distance between them and the mountains as possible.  
   
As if Sheik knew the subject of Link’s thoughts, he nodded towards the weapon lying against Link’s shoulder and asked, “If you deserted the Royal Army and detest the crown, why do you still carry their sword?”  
   
There was no judgment there; only curiosity.  
   
“It’s a reminder of…what I’ve done, I suppose.”  
   
The sheikah frowned, a common expression over the past day. “You deserve to move on, Link. Even if the war has changed you, you deserve a chance to start over.”  
   
“Starting over isn’t so simple, I’ve learned. War doesn’t just _happen_ ; it marks you in a way that lingers even after its passing,” Link countered with a sigh. “Violence changes people. Sometimes you can see it,” he gestured to Sheik’s blind eye, “sometimes you can’t,” he finished, pointing to himself.  
   
Sheik gave a grim smile, reaching up as though out of habit to run his finger over the scar. It stretched from eyebrow, over eyelid, and down to cheekbone. It was the kind of scar the boys in Link’s battalion talked about getting. They thought it was cool, the badge of a ruthless and brave warrior. Link, maybe sometime in his early youth, might’ve agreed with them. But now, seeing the damage and the solemnity in which Sheik carried it, he knew it had nothing to do with bravery. The scar was a consequence of living, a proof that men were evil and staying alive was far braver than fighting because a tyrant with a crown ordered you to.  
   
Since Sheik’s arrival in his life, Link had caught himself several times, nearly risking rudeness to ask about that haunting, white blind eye. Now that a month’s companionship had brought them closer and in light of Sheik specifically asking Link about his sword and the Hyrulean Civil War, perhaps it was appropriate to finally scratch that curious itch. But Sheik beat him to it.  
   
“I found a ruined city on the coast, before I crossed the ocean. It was there I was captured and held for two winters by rogue men who did not care much for people with dark skin. My scars are evidence of their hatred. I just barely escaped, half-dead and desperate. A much kinder man found me far from the ruins, starving and bleeding out in the dirt. He knew what I had endured and helped me. When I was well enough, he gave me one of his boats to cross the sea. I knew nothing was left for me in Hyrule and this stranger was willing to help me leave. When I asked him why he was helping me, he told me that kindness was an exchange, only not in the way you think it is. Kindness is paid forward, not back. The man told me someone had helped him long ago and only asked for one thing in return: _I helped you find sanctuary, so now you must help the next person find it too_.”  
   
Sheik fell quiet for a moment, studying Link’s face for a long moment. And Link couldn’t bring himself to look away from such a powerful gaze.  
   
“Perhaps…I found you to somehow pay it forward,” Sheik added in a soft voice. “Perhaps I’m here to help _you_ find your sanctuary.”  
   
 _Don’t let him leave_.  
   
The dream was a heavy thought in Link’s mind, as though a tree had begun to grow out from a single spot; it was getting bigger each day, replacing some of his self-imposed loneliness with…hope.  
   
 _Hope_.  
   
“Yes…perhaps you are.” Link couldn’t help but smile.  
   
Sheik just smiled back.  
   
\--  
   
*Character says name of fic in fic* Roll credits.  
   
An enormous thank you to my best friend Mariah for beta-ing this chapter and last chapter. I might be a professional proofreader but my abilities don’t seem to apply to my own work.  
 


	3. Pursuit

|3. Pursuit|  
   
   
In the following days, by some miracle, they found their way through the western pass with little protest. The five-day journey from the cabin to the pass had been a tense one—for fear of being followed, they slept without fire and ate raw fish from the river their path occasionally crossed.  
   
Maybe it was just Link’s exhausted mind, but he could’ve sworn Sheik was gaining proximity as the days dragged by. From a closer stride to a bedroll unfurled a bit nearer every night, Link wondered if it was truly happening or it was just the tricks paranoia played when their distant company seemed to be heading in the same direction as they were.  
   
And even if it had nothing to do with that, it was not as though Link minded.  
   
He liked Sheik.  
   
A lot, it seemed.  
   
To meet someone his age, from the same country, and sporting the same sorts of battle scars…it was unprecedented. Link had been wholly prepared to spend the rest of his days in solitude—it was something with which he truly had no qualms. And with the arrival of Sheik a month ago, so long after the follies of his career in the Royal Army, he had had ample time to twist his mind. It almost felt like some prophecy.  
   
Sheik’s words from nights ago kept resonating with him— _perhaps I’m here to help you find your sanctuary_. Yes, perhaps this man had been guided to him so Link could attempt to mend his past. Nothing could atone for the lives he had taken…but Sheik might be his best and only chance to, at the very least, try.  
   
Finally divested of the claustrophobic mountains, the western lands unfolded before them in a patchwork collage of foothills, farms, and bare trees, houses just slight blemishes against the landscape. White still blanketed the land like a great spill of paint but brown freckled the snow like bruises where it had begun to melt.  
   
If things had been different, Link would’ve left in another week when the ice and snow had truly started to disappear. But he could live with the foot of snow they trudged through. Now, regardless if they were still being followed, they at least had more directions to go. While Link had planned to revisit the Glass Lake again this spring, he wondered if it was such a good idea. Though it lay west, they would be forced to pass through a village unless they took the extra four days to go around.  
   
Was it worth it?  
   
“Where to now?” Sheik inquired, moisture puffing out even through his cowl. The stress had started to leave the Sheikah’s eyes and Link felt himself relax in return.  
   
So Link offered the lake idea—it was still such a strange experience to debate the course of his journey with someone else now. It was strange to double his ration calculations. It was strange to have such an intelligent but vastly different mind to confer with. But where it was different, it was mostly welcomed. Link had often wondered if he had slipped into madness at certain times. He had no doubt made some awful decisions in the years past; would he have made them if someone like Sheik had been around?  
   
“If that’s where you had intended to go, let’s keep that course,” Sheik decided, twisting his staff idly into the snow as he seemed to consider their options. “As far as the village…we will need supplies. It would be much simpler to purchase them there rather than procure them from the wilds.”  
   
“Yes, but is it worth the risk?”  
   
Sheik gave a shrug. “Worth the risk of what? That Hylian soldiers await us in shacks? Now that we have left the mountains, I feel we’re safe. Unless you wish to add four days needlessly to our travels, I recommend we go through the village. Quietly, of course.”  
   
Sheik made some great points, convincing points even. But Link couldn’t shake the feeling that, although they were physically out of the woods, they were not completely free of them. The line between suspicion and paranoia had always been a thin one for Link. Did he trust the objective logic of a warrior like himself or the worrying thoughts his mind had grown since the war?  
   
“Okay,” Link said finally, “we’ll go through the village. It’s a day’s walk from here. We can decide, once we’re there, whether to stay at the Inn or move on to camp in the woods.”  
   
Sheik agreed with a quick nod and a reassuring look. Link wondered if the Sheikah knew the importance of Link’s concession—he wouldn’t address it, however. The level of mutual trust had grown exponentially in the month together and, as hardened and quiet warriors, feelings were a territory perhaps forever uncharted for them.  
   
The look they shared before continuing on said it all. Trust. Companionship. Compatibility.  
   
And Link couldn’t quite shake the notion that, given they weren’t killed, their alliance would last for an indeterminable amount of time. In many ways it was jarring—solitude changed a man—but in other ways, it was wholly welcome and even…exciting.  
   
Alas, Link shoved the idle thoughts away as the crunch of deep snow and slight pants became a hypnotic and ambient sound. His mind cleared, and his eyes remained ahead with a long-trained blank concentration.  
   
Once over the first hill, several slivers of smoke could be seen winding their way into the gray skies—the village was only a few hours away and Link was thankful for that. They would soon lose light and his paranoia would not allow for torches in the night. Sheik concurred with the sentiment and they picked up their pace.  
   
A wooden fence had been built around the village’s proper, nothing but an old man and a rusty sword guarding it. Sheik tensed beside him in the very dim light, but Link felt more at ease.  
   
“Link? That you?” he called quietly as the duo approached.  
   
“Good to see you, Len,” Link returned, making a true effort to unbury his social skills. “It’s been awhile.”  
   
“That it has, boy.” Len propped the sword back onto a frail, sagging shoulder. “Need a coop for the night?”  
   
“If the Inn would be so kind.”  
   
“’Course. Daisy will be happy to have you back,” the old man assured. And then his eyes shifted over to Sheik, the expression of distrust coloring his wrinkled face. “And who is this?”  
   
Fully prepared to handle the introductions, Link was surprised when the Sheikah stepped forward to extend a now ungloved hand. “I am Sheik, a Mage from the east. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Len.”  
   
The man seemed to visibly relax, Link’s reassuring glance chasing away most of Len’s remaining suspicion. “So, are you from that Hyrule kingdom like this boy?” Len inquired, pointing a lazy hand in Link’s direction.  
   
Long since had Link ceased bristling at the term ‘boy.’ After a solid punch to the jaw a few winters prior, Link had learned well that Len had undoubtedly earned the right to call him such. Because, compared to such an ancient thing, Link _was_ a boy.  
   
Sheik nodded obediently.  
   
“Well, I s’pose you check out all right.” Len gave one last scrutinizing look to Sheik and shook his head. “I don’t mean no offense, but I reckon you ought to cover that blind eye of yours, Sheik. Folks in Lyton are suspicious—no, _superstitious_ —of things as silly as a battle wound like that.”  
   
“Oh,” Link huffed in frustration, “don’t give us that fodder, Len. We just need a room for the night and a shop to buy supplies from in the morning. That’s all. Sheik is an honorable warrior and, if anything, his scars should be viewed as a medal of valor, not a source of black magic murmuring nonsense.”  
   
At this, Len just started laughing. Sheik looked puzzled, but Link lacked the energy to explain the enigma that was the old man before them. Len liked back-talk and banter. He rarely got it so, if nothing else, Link’s sass would be their spoken toll into refuge for the night. Len opened the gate and attempted to swat them inside.  
   
“Tell Daisy I sent ya,” Len snorted as he began to close the gate once more. “I’ll warn ya, though, she’s only got one room tonight. We have some other strangers in town as well.”  
   
The gate clattered shut and the whole perimeter seemed to shudder from the impact. Within Lyton’s walls were clusters of wooden cabins and shacks, ranging in all sizes in a mismatched sprawl. Lyton had grown a bit since Link’s last visit but he could hardly analyze it as Len’s words filtered through his mind.  
   
Not the only strangers…  
   
None of the citizens were milling about and that was no surprise—winters brought shorter days and frigid nights. People would be well settled at home before the darkness fell so nothing but the flicker of a few torches illuminated their short walk to the Inn. It was one of the largest buildings in the village and yellow light wavered through its warped glass windows as they approached it.  
   
“You’re concerned about these strangers,” Sheik stated quietly.  
   
“And you’re not?” Link tossed him a frown.  
   
“I’m concerned about everything,” he sighed. “But we’re here and we need rest. The moment we see anyone suspicious, we leave.”  
   
“Alright.”  
   
The Inn’s pub held somewhere around twenty people, a normal night in Lyton’s only haunt. No one suspicious, no sight of the crests of Hyrule. Many people recognized Link and nodded in his direction, others raising a drink to him. Despite the—what was it, a year?—since his last visit, he was marginally surprised that so many people recognized him.  
   
As they approached the bar, Link prepared for the encounter with Daisy, the daughter of Len. She was a slight woman with hair so blonde it could look gray in the right light. It was pulled into a long braid that hung over her shoulder as she leaned her arms against the bar and gave them both a hard look.  
   
“Good evening, Daisy.” That expression wasn’t good news and Link sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to have to wrestle with this woman, too. Daisy had an even harder punch than her father and kept a wickedly sharp dagger in her belt under a rag.  
   
“Link,” she said in a tight voice, eyes no longer on the Hylian but on the Sheikah at his side. Everyone in the room was layered up with cloth and fur, but none were in stark white; Sheik couldn’t be more the center of attention. A quick sweep around the pub confirmed that all eyes were on them. Some were just simply curious, many nervous, and a few were looking a bit angry. “I would hope you’re not here for a room.”  
   
Here we go.  
   
“Len sent us. We’re fine with one. We’ll be gone at sunrise, Daisy,” Link explained quickly as Daisy’s expression turned stonier.  
   
“Not him,” Daisy said in a low voice, glaring at Sheik. “People like him shouldn’t be here.”  
   
Len had simply been annoying with his superstitious warning—Daisy’s outright revulsion infuriated him. Link leaned over the bar, invading Daisy’s space and meeting her eye to eye. Maybe, years ago in Hyrule, Link would’ve backed down from such a severe woman and complied with such ridiculous demands. Solitude and hardships had cemented his resolve, however, and he glared right back.  
   
“This is Sheik, a mage of the Sheikah, comrade of my country across the sea.”  
   
“Those eyes are evil,” Daisy hissed, narrowing her own as she continued to glower at the Sheikah. “I’ve never seen eyes like that and I can assure you it’s an evil omen—”  
   
“Miss,” Sheik interjected, stepping closer to pause beside Link, “I am of the Sheikah, a race of desert people. Iryo has a race with amber eyes, a bit more golden than my own. Both of my eyes, at birth, were the red you see. It was during battle that my left eye was slashed by a dagger.” He paused to pull his cowl out of the way, revealing a patient and calming expression. “I mean no one here any harm and, as my companion said, we will be gone in the morning.”  
   
Link glanced back and forth between the two, surprised that Sheik had even bothered. Daisy was the kind of person that never changed. Now a bit past the age of childbearing and with neither a husband or young, she was bitter and more close-minded than the King of Hyrule.  
   
But somehow, Daisy’s face was softening. Thin eyebrows pulled out of their furrow and the hand that had been hovering by her belt rested back against the weathered bar. It wasn’t an exactly polite expression, but it was no longer malicious and mistrusting—how had Sheik even managed it? Shock was all Link could feel as the woman reached somewhere beneath for the room keys. Another hand extended towards Sheik as she snapped, “Twenty rupees.”  
   
Before Link could go hunting for his share, Sheik procured the appropriate currency and handed it over immediately. By the sound of the pouch under Sheik’s furs, it was clear he had even more.  
   
“Room six,” Daisy said gruffly as a patron warily approached the bar for more mead. “Don’t make a ruckus up there like the others have—I’ll boot you all out.”  
   
Still jarred by what had just happened, Link took the keys from her and led the way to the stairs. Daisy's voice seemed to almost reset behind them, somehow getting ruder with the very drunk man asking for his fifth pint.  
   
The hallway was narrow and barking laughter could be heard behind doors on either side as they reached the door with a deeply carved _6_. Once safely inside the stale but warm room, Link finally turned his eyes back to Sheik.  
   
"How did you do that?" he asked incredulously. "I've never seen anyone subdue Daisy so quickly. Even Len fails sometimes."  
   
"It's a skill of the Sheikah. Not really a spell but a persuasion of sorts. It doesn't always work but if the person has a weak enough sense of self, I can manage to steer them." The man dropped his pack against the wall and sat tiredly on a creaking chair in the corner.  
   
The room was small, a very unappealing cot shoved in the corner that would barely fit one person on it. There was no doubt they were be sleeping on the floor in their bedrolls. The walls were a dark wood and layered with years of dust, ash, and cobwebs. But it was better than outside so Link couldn't find it in him to complain.  
   
"Did you use that persuasion on me when we met?" Link quipped in a tired voice.  
   
"I said if the person has a weak sense of self."  
   
It was an unexpected compliment. Sheik wasn't necessarily a playful person, so to speak, but he did possess his own quiet wit as he made little underhanded jabs at Link. Getting an earnest compliment was a little less common and it made Link smile a bit after such a long and stressful string of days.  
   
They heated up some beans over the flames in the tiny fireplace and ate in silence. When exhaustion finally overtook them, they unfurled their bedrolls, Link silently taking note of only the arm's length of space they had both seemed to mutually agree upon.  
   
Link wouldn't analyze it for long, however, as sleep quickly pulled him under.  
   
Morning brought painful cold, the nighttime fire having long abandoned them leaving only crumpled ash. Below their feet were boisterous voices, presumably the loud patrons Daisy had complained of.  
   
When they descended to the pub, the counter was swamped, the hope of returning their key rather slim.  
   
"Let's buy our supplies, then," Link suggested quietly as they moved away from the large group of people laughing and badgering a furious-looking Daisy. "Hopefully this crowd will be gone by the time we get back."  
   
They stepped outside into the wicked morning cold, flurries spinning in frantic eddies above their heads. Lyton was alive once more, its hardened and freezing citizens milling down the main road to begin their day. Sometimes Link wondered whether it was harder to be a wanderer or part of a village—both scenarios seemed depressing for very different reasons.  
   
They found the market, a group of stands under an old wooden overhang. Despite the overall drab appearance of the village, their goods weren’t half bad as Link spotted some decent blades, healthy grains, and bright red meats. Having agreed the previous night on what would be purchased, they split up to speed the process. After emptying the last of his wallet, Link looked around to join Sheik but didn’t see him. Furrowing his brow, Link glanced back out into the street to find the Sheikah crouched by an old woman sitting cross-legged on the permafrost.  
   
Link crossed the path to join his companion, surprised to see a collection of instruments on a thick fur before her. The woman sold everything from flutes to small skin drums. A lute missing two strings caught his eye, but it was clear something more unique had captured Sheik’s attention. In his hands sat a wooden ocarina, an instrument Link hadn’t seen in years. They were incredibly popular in Hyrule, originally an instrument of the forest people that spilled across the land. They were small enough to travel with and easy enough to play.  
   
“Carved it myself,” the woman growled, her weathered smile lighting up as another customer bent down to look. “I saw one in Gold Harbor a few years ago and have been trying to replicate it.”  
   
Sheik turned it over in his hands and Link wondered out loud if he would buy it.  
   
“No, I…I already have one,” Sheik replied quietly. “My father gave me one before I left.”  
   
Link blinked in surprise—Sheik had never mentioned an ocarina, let alone brought it out to play. Now he was unbearably curious, opening his mouth to pester further when a hand came down on his shoulder.  
   
“Come with me.” It was Daisy and her other hand gripped Sheik’s white furs. There was a danger in her eyes that Link had yet to see so he obeyed, leaving the old woman with the instruments to follow her down a narrow alleyway.  
   
Sheik was close behind as they hurried behind shacks along the fence line, Link’s confusion growing by the minute. He had never seen Daisy from behind that bar, let alone looking so serious. Anger was a common expression on the woman’s face, but this was different. A glance back revealed an equally alarmed Sheikah and Link was about to ask Daisy where they were headed when they seemed to reach their destination.  
   
A small section of fence was pushed aside to reveal a man-sized gap filled with snow. Daisy began shoving the ice out of the way as she said, “I don’t even know why I’m doing this, but those men…I don’t like them.”  
   
“Daisy, what is going on?” Link demanded, his heart picking up at her words.  
   
“They stayed the night, the ones I was complainin’ about last night,” she snapped, now using her boot to kick out the remainder of snow. “When they rented their rooms, they said something about heading for the mountains to look for someone. They weren’t from Iryo with their gold uniforms and swords…just like yours, Link.”  
   
And his stomach dropped at this. He shared a look with Sheik, seeing the mirrored panic there.  
   
“They said they were lookin’ for a man with red eyes. I don’t know if it’s even you they’re looking for, but folks around here can’t keep their mouths shut when they see something different. Lyton doesn’t need this kind of trouble—I was thinkin’ I would turn you two in.”  
   
“Are you turning us in?” Link asked, confused considering this clearly wasn’t Daisy turning them in.  
   
Daisy paused for a moment, gnawing at her lip and frowning deeply. “Those men…they look like killers. I knew the moment they came askin’ this morning…that they’d kill you both. I don’t like either of you, but Lyton has seen enough death. I’ll tell them you headed for the mountains. Go through here and get as far away as you can.”  
   
Link gave her the most grateful look he could muster. “Thank you, Daisy. I’ll find a way to repay you for this.”  
   
“You can repay me by never comin’ back,” she retorted harshly. “We don’t need this kind of trouble so stay away next time.”  
   
“Of course.”  
   
Loud voices could be heard on the main street now, the accent clearly from Hyrule and only a few houses from where they were. Daisy let out a quiet curse and shoved Link towards the gap with a hissed _Go_. Sheik followed suit and they squirmed their way through the gap and into freshly fallen snow.  
   
Bursting out from the confines of the village was a complete change in atmosphere but the anxiety did not abate. The moment they were free, they were running. The snow hindered their pace, but they soldiered through it to reach a copse of pine trees ahead of them. Cover, they needed cover. There were no voices heard from behind them and the walls of Lyton were far too tall for anyone to spot them for a while.  
   
After what felt like an eon, they reached the trees and fell into them well out of breath. Pushing through until they could no longer see Lyton, they both dropped to the cold ground to recuperate from the flight. The freezing air was painful as Link gulped desperately for it. Sheik didn’t appear in any better shape.  
   
“Well,” Link huffed, “that was fun.”  
   
Sheik groaned and leaned his back against a tree. “I should’ve heeded your paranoia. You were right.”  
   
“There’s no…right or wrong here.”  
   
Sheik gave him a horribly pained look, the expression seemingly deeper than just exhaustion and worry. Link decided very quickly he hated the expression and plopped down next to the man hoping to provide some sort of comfort. Their shoulders rested against each other as they caught their breath.  
   
“They were looking for me. What are the chances of another person with red eyes in Iryo?” Sheik asked quietly, leaning his head back to rest against the tree. “Are you certain you still wish to travel with me? We could part ways now and—”  
   
“No,” Link cut him off, giving him a sharp glare. “We’ve already been through this. And they were heading east to the mountains and Daisy confirmed that was our path, so there should be no danger now.”  
   
“Forgive me if I’m doubtful of that,” Sheik replied with a frown.  
   
“You’re forgiven.”  
   
—  
   
And this story is back from unofficial hiatus now. Sorry, y’all. Every time I tried to start editing this chapter, some life event would happen and derail me. We back, tho.


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